


Watching Your Own TV Show (And All The Consequences That Come With It)

by elysiantree



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: ...look so when i was editing chapter one for republication it became a little cracky, Angst, Characters Watching Miraculous Ladybug, Drama & Romance, I'm Sorry, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, i truly don't know, it's called CONFIDENCE okay i'm sure i can fit some in there, probably fluff because i'm tired, what is a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25560976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiantree/pseuds/elysiantree
Summary: Characteurn, who seemed to have finally finished her lengthy discourse with Papillion, which involved more than a few terrible puns, sighed. “So. As I was saying, reality can be fiction, and my not-so-good friend Papillion has helpfully given me the power to access the alternate universes in which it is.”“What?” Aurore asked.“Well, in an alternate universe, there’s a TV show called Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Sound familiar?”“Oh,” Marinette said quietly. “I see where this is going.”My friends, you know it when you see it--this is yet another Miraculous Watches Miraculous fic! I accidentally orphaned it, so here is the re-published version!
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Comments: 19
Kudos: 56





	Watching Your Own TV Show (And All The Consequences That Come With It)

Night in Paris was never  _ busy _ . Hardly anyone was awake, and the only businesses were the sort that only seemed to be open at night, the sort that tended to frighten you away with their flat light and uninviting square windows. 

In spite of this, if they did happen to be up, awakened by an unfamiliar bump-in the night, any Parisian would consider themselves grateful, for what their nighttime lacked in busy-ness it more than made up for in  uniqueness. . They would take the opportunity to close their eyes and  _ listen,  _ listen to the patter of raindrops, to the rushing wind, to—if they were exceedingly lucky—the peals of laughter coming from the rooftops, the laughter of those who have done their job and know that their City is safe for another night, the laughter of orange and green and red and black, the laughter of heroes, hushed and joyous and familiar. 

...of course, you could only be awakened if you had been asleep in the first place. And Abby Jacobs was suffering from an extreme case of insomnia.

“Oh, Biscuit,” she lamented to her hamster, who remained largely indifferent to the situation, “this is tragic. I can’t  _ possibly  _ go to sleep until I write at  _ least  _ a thousand words. And nothing comes. How am I supposed to contribute my five-hundredth friends-to-lovers coffeeshop-AU to this fandom if nothing  _ comes _ ?” She gazed at Biscuit pleadingly.

Biscuit himself appeared to be asleep. He opened one eye and promptly shut it again.

Abby glared at him with an air of betrayal. “Well, of course  _ you  _ don’t care,” she told him indignantly. “You’re a hamster.” She stared at him for a few more seconds and turned away, sighing. If she couldn’t write fanfiction, at least she could watch the newest episode, released just yesterday after a hiatus of over a year—admittedly, she didn’t know what language it would be in (the show had a surprisingly large fanbase for something with the same rating as Paw Patrol that was constantly released out of order in any one of five different languages. But  _ oh well _ , the people want what the people want). 

She turned on her computer and opened YouTube.  _ Pirated media? Psshh, more like  _ **_being an entrepreneur_ ** _ ,  _ she thought to herself.

Twenty-two minutes and sixteen seconds later, she stared blankly at the episode’s colorful endcard. “What...was that.” She was willing to admit that the general writing of the show wasn’t the best, but...

“This takes the cake. Talk about  _ out of character _ ,” she said peevishly, glaring at her reflection. Her reflection glared back at her, as if to say  _ what am  _ **_I_ ** _ supposed to do? _ Her laptop’s screen died down, a dull black—then suddenly it flashed purple.

“Characteurn, I am Papillion,” a deep voice said from out of nowhere. “It really is a shame, isn’t it, an unequivocal travesty when perfectly good characters are victims of bad writing, and—”

“Characteurn?” Abby interrupted crossly. “That really is a horrible name. Well, not like most of your other ones were any better.” She paused thoughtfully. “You should really try an online generator. I know it’s gotten  _ me _ out of a couple of fixes.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute before finally sighing. “I grant you the power to bring these characters to justice, and right all these fictional wrongs, in exchange for one thing only—Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculouses. HAHAHEEOHOOHOOHAAHAHEEE,” He began to laugh evilly.

“As you wish, Papillion. But, wait a second. You do know that these people I’m upset about are fictional, right?”

“Everyone is the protagonist of their own story,” he intoned wisely. “And perhaps in an alternate universe, reality is fiction.”

Abby attempted and failed to decipher his meaning for twenty-seven seconds. 

He coughed awkwardly.

Still not fully understanding, Abby shrugged and grinned. “I think this’ll be fun. I’ll do it, Papillion.” Her body was overwhelmed in purple light and they began to cackle evilly...together.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng woke up in a dark, shadowy room, unable to see anything. She was vaguely aware of quiet muttering coming from around her, but was honestly too tired to care. One minute, she had just gotten home from a long day—and then patrol—and was dropping off to sleep, and the next she was here.  _ So this must be a dream, _ she thought to herself, relieved. At least she was asleep.

“What—where are we?” came a voice from somewhere behind her.

Marinette turned her head—still too exhausted to physically get up. She gave an inward sigh of relief when she saw who it was. “Aurore?” She was on friendly-enough terms with the weather girl, who was in Mme. Mendeliev’s homeroom. Although she resembled Chloe, she acted nothing like her, which was a relief.

“Marinette?” Aurore asked, a look of confusion on her face. “Do you know where we are?”

“I don’t. But we seem to be the only ones awake—well, this is a dream, of course, so—”

“No,” Aurore interrupted, fiddling with the end of her pigtail. “This isn’t a dream. I’ve already pinched myself twice—and, well, in dreams it doesn’t usually hurt. I think.” She didn’t seem so sure. “So, I can pinch you, if you want.”

“That’s what someone in a dream would say,” Marinette answered crossly. “Well, in any case, I’m tired and I’m going back to sleep. Even if it is dream-sleep, it’s better than nothing.”

Aurore opened her mouth, about to answer, but was cut off by a dark figure that suddenly appeared at the front of the room. “Greetings,” the figure said in an unnatural-sounding voice. “I am Characteurn, and I am here to—” She paused, a giddy smile on her face. “ _ —write _ all the fictional wrongs. Get it?” She waited for a moment, then shook her head when it elicited no reaction from either of the girls. “Well, it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t that good of a pun anyway. But in any case, I’m here to tell you this: just as fiction can become reality, reality can  _ be  _ fiction.”

Marinette and Aurore just looking even more confused than before, Characteurn sighed and rubbed her temples with two fingers. “See, Papillion, I  _ told  _ you it didn’t make sense.” She paused. “Yes, I’ll get your jewelry, but first let me have  _ my  _ fun.” She began to cackle evilly, but Marinette cut her off.

“Are you...are you akumatized?” Her hand slipped up to her earrings.

Characteurn nodded. “Yes, but only because I liked the concept of my powers. I really don’t know how he expects me to—” She sighed as her face was framed in the magenta of Papillion’s mask once again. “No, no, I  _ will  _ catch the bug eventually, I didn’t mean—no, just let me—”

Aurore turned to Marinette. “I  _ told _ you this wasn’t a dream.”

Marinette grinned sheepishly. “There was an akuma yesterday, and I’m tired.”

“Why would  _ you _ be tired because of an akuma?” she asked curiously.

“I—uh—well—it was—IT WAS AT THE BAKERY!” Marinette screamed uncontrollably. “I think I know where we are,” she said in an attempt to change the subject. 

“Is that an attempt to change the subject?” Aurore asked.

“No.”

“Oh, okay,” Aurore nodded.

Marinette looked around desperately. “Uh, look, this is like a movie theater, but flatter.”

“Flatter?”

“I, uh, the seats don’t slope. And there’s no exit door, too. This is definitely the akuma’s doing.” 

Characteurn, who seemed to have finally finished her lengthy discourse with Papillion, which involved more than a few terrible puns, sighed. “So. As I was saying, reality can be fiction, and my not-so-good friend Papillion has helpfully given me the power to access the alternate universes in which it is.”

“What?” Aurore asked.

“Well—” She furrowed her brow, thinking. “In an alternate universe, there’s a TV show called Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Sound familiar?”

“Oh,” Marinette said quietly. “I see where this is going.”

Characteurn grinned. “I knew you were a smart one. Well, in any case, the protagonist of this show is you,” —she pointed to Marinette, “and after watching a little of the first episode,  _ you  _ are already my favorite character.” She pointed to Aurore, who seemed unsure how to feel about this sudden confession. “So I decided to bring you two here first, just to give you a heads up. Oh, and by the way...” She moved swiftly across the theater and bent down next to Marinette. “I know your secret, bug. But I won’t tell Papillion—this’ll be too much fun as it is.” She righted herself and clapped her hands sharply. “Now, let the show  _ begin _ !”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos fill the void in my soul left after rewatching miracle queen for the seventh time
> 
> thank you for reading!
> 
> -elys <3


End file.
